Will
by Bones365
Summary: She had asked many things of him throughout their time together. Their confusing, snarled, painful, bewildering time together. She has asked, and he only has one answer. Pure fluff, a lemon and a peek into the future as Sarkan realizes just where Agnieszka has made her home.


**I do not own the world or the characters in this story.**

 **I just got done reading Uprooted for the 2** **nd** **time and this popped into my head. I hope you enjoy! Picks up right at the end of the book, so there are some spoilers in here.**

She had asked many things of him throughout their time together. Their confusing, snarled, painful, bewildering time together.

At times, she had asked for almost too much. Once or twice she had asked him for something that so nearly broke him that he still shuddered to remember.

" _Will you cast it with me?"_ She had asked the first time. He only hesitated a moment, having sensed with growing dread the panic running through her veins. It was an unfamiliar thing in her, and he found it… distasteful. Agnieszka was not some floundering weakling. She was determined. She was pig-headed. The frantic passion she exhibited while throwing herself into research to save her friend had no place in her. Hoping, in small part, to restore her back to him, the only answer he'd had for her was, _"Yes."_

And then, most notably and terribly, _"Will you come into the wood with me?"_

That time it was not her weakness, but her immense strength that spurred his answer. Again, he only had one response.

He only ever did have one response.

"Will you?" She asked.

And he did.

Treading softly through her wood, now, he was fairly certain that of all the things they had been through, this might be the most dangerous.

Her mother, he had found, was an exceedingly charming woman, straightforward and polite, but her eyes had held the questions that whirred around the rest of the village, as well. _"What is going on between the Dragon and our Nieshka?"_ Her brothers had been… less charming. And much more suspicious.

The Dragon almost let out a snort, recalling her brothers. When Agnieszka had announced that she was going back into the wood, their faces had turned down slightly in an accepting sort of disapproval. When she had taken Sarkan's hand and tugged him with her, they had almost looked like they were about to protest. As if they could possibly do anything to stop her.

If anyone in this blasted earth thought that they could control the girl, or dissuade her from her purposes, they had a shock they had coming. She could not be controlled. She was as wild as the woods they now walked in.

The girl in question looked back at him, a small smile on her face, and quirked her brow. Her feet were sure in the dirt despite the dark of night that surrounded them. She looked at home here, walking steadfastly and barefooted in the thin moonlight.

"Something funny?"

"Your brothers. They don't like that I'm here," he replied, his eyes holding hers. He did not like to admit that he knew exactly how long it had been since he'd last looked into those eyes.

Agnieszka snorted now, too. "My brothers have a healthy respect for my new position," she said, gesturing to the towering trees around them. "But they are not used to me receiving attention from… gentlemen." She cut her eyes back to him and smirked, which did _not_ make his heart beat just a bit faster in his chest. "Gentlemen or Dragons, that is."

Sarkan covered what would have been a laugh by scowling at her.

"Of course not. Your brothers wouldn't know a gentleman from a scarecrow. There are no 'gentlemen' to be found in that tiny, back-water village. Pig farmers, perhaps. Would they be more pleased with you if you hauled a common carpenter into your little forest?"

She tipped her head back and laughed, slowing down on the path in front of him.

"Of course they would!" She replied. His scowl deepened because she was right. He was still sensitive to the perception the villagers had of him. The perception of a heartless, kidnapping monster. And that drove him mad more than almost anything else – that he should care one bit what these idiotic village people thought of him.

But he did. And he had, he realized, even before he had drunk from the Spindle, and even before he'd performed the Summoning and seen inside every single dark corner of the girl before him. He glared down at her, very aware of how she still held his hand in hers. They had stopped walking.

He raised his head and looked around them. There was a small wood box to the side, and a grass-lined hollow in the roots of a huge and ancient oak.

"Please don't tell me you sleep in the roots of this thing," his lip curled up in disgust at the very thought. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"Of course not. I sleep inside," she stepped forward opening a door in the tree that he had not seen.

For a moment, his heart stuttered to a halt. He felt his face contort into a mask of rage.

"YOU SLEEP INSIDE OF A TREE?!" He raged at her, unable to control the first impulse of panic that swept through him. "Are you mad? You insufferable… Do you not remember a single thing that we went through in the past year?" He ripped his hand out of hers to gesture wildly at the oak before them. "Of all the pea-brained, hopelessly irresponsible ideas! Sleeping in trees, eating the fruit-"

"It's not a heart tree and it's not contaminated," she told him. He glared down at her and she crossed her arms, glaring back. "I'm not at risk. It's safe." Her chin lifted stubbornly and his arms fell to his sides. He narrowed his eyes even further.

"You sleep. In. A. Tree," he said. His voice was dangerously soft. She laughed at him, and the husky sound radiated through him.

"It's very comfortable," she gestured inside. His eyes flicked over and he caught a glimpse of a small wooden table and a soft bed that seemed to be made of moss. "It's just an oak, Sarkan."

She took a step closer to him. And another, until he was looking straight down into her eyes.

"Sarkan," she repeated.

"What," he snapped, still reeling from this new revelation. Her lips lifted into a faint smile.

"Sarkan," her fingers curled into the thick weave of his shirt, hooking into buttons.

"What," his voice softened considerably and her fingers tightened in his shirt in response. She tugged him closer, and he allowed himself to be pulled.

Her lips hovered close, just underneath his, and he could feel her breath when she exhaled.

"Will you come inside with me?" She asked. He held her gaze and hesitated before lowering his head to brush his lips against hers. His pulse leapt when her head tilted to an angle. Her tongue brushed his bottom lip and he groaned.

Slowly, with control – because he _was_ in control of his emotions – his hands reached to cup her cheeks, fingers reaching to burrow into her hair, releasing the knot of hair to tumble down her shoulders. Their kiss deepened and her arms looped around him to press their bodies together.

Agnieszka gasped into his mouth and he groaned as he pulled her closer, rocking hips into her soft stomach. A fire caught in his blood. The smell of her and of the wood, so familiar, wrapped around him. In the dead of night, he inhaled the scent of sunshine. She pressed her body even tighter to his. Their tongues dueled together for dominance as breath shortened into pants and sighs; their hands were everywhere, feeling skin and muscle, smoothing over clothing. He reached up to stroke her nipple through her thin blouse, feeling it pucker beneath his hand.

She breathed his name again and trailed her lips hungrily over his jaw, his neck, into the hollow if his throat. No one said his name the way she did. He closed his eyes and gave into sensation. Without warning, her mouth opened and bit lightly against the thrumming heartbeat under her lips. He groaned at the feeling and tightened his hands where they rested on her waist. He felt a wave of magic pulse down his arms and into her.

She moaned and suddenly crushed her body against his, opening her mouth under his and writhing against him. His arms came around her like bands of steel, plundering into her soft hair and tightening to hold her closer.

Agnieszka ripped her mouth away from his and he stared at her, taking in the results of his involuntary magic. Her chest heaved under the loosened ties of her blouse. He saw the dark pink edge of an aroused nipple straining against the gaping opening in her shirt.

His mouth watered to kiss her there. For a brief moment, images of her – from their one night together – flickered across his mind. The sounds she had made when he'd stroked between her legs, the look of rapture on her face when she'd fallen apart for him. Before he had a chance to bend down to take her breast in his mouth, her hand covered his, sliding it back up her body to cover her breast.

"Sarkan, come inside," she said. It was a plea and a command all wrapped up together. He shook his head sorrowfully, knowing that he had no free will when it came to her. His fingers closed around her nipple, rolling it softly and she made a sound at the back of her throat that almost brought him to his knees.

His mouth returned to hers and she walked backwards into her tree-cabin, clutching his shoulders desperately, refusing to part from him for a moment. Sarkan drowned in the feeling. He'd been driving himself to distraction in the capital, thinking about her laugh, her smooth skin, the clench of her thighs over his. His fingers dug into her blouse and pulled, freeing it from her skirt.

The door to the tree thudded closed behind him, and he vaguely heard her murmur a light spell, a warm orange glow pulsing to life within the tree. Her shirt finally fluttered to the floor and he growled as he lowered his head to her breast. His tongue barely flicked out to taste her sweet skin before she shoved him backwards. He toppled to the bed, surprised at its soft springiness.

His hands reached up for her even as he glared and rasped out her name, "Agnieszka."

Her eyes danced with mirth as she shed her skirt, climbing onto his lap to straddle him and bring their bodies tight together.

"Surely it's not too much to ask for a little patience," she murmured, throwing his words from their night together back at him. She caught him so off guard that a laugh huffed out of him, muffled by his mouth on her breasts.

"Sarkan, you laughed…" She accused, hands spearing into his hair. He moaned in assent and gripped her hips tighter as he flipped them on the bed. Rising above her, his hips pressed deeper into hers.

"The thought of making love in a tree is laughable, you loon," he eased the sting of his words with a teasing nip to the bottom curve of her breast, making her buck up into him. She murmured a command and his clothes melted away. They groaned in unison as their skin met and his mind went blissfully blank when her hands reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. With one thrust, he entered her and his hands clenched against the feelings bombarding his body.

"Ah," she whispered, tightening around him, pulling him deeper. With another thrust he was seated inside her fully and he froze, savoring the feeling. His arms reached above her head, trapping her hands and stretching her beautifully beneath him.

Sarkan held still and savored the feeling of her. Last time had felt so rushed, so surreal on the eve of war, with an army camped outside the tower and child royalty in the tomb below. Now felt different. Just as frantic, but with a feeling of permanence that was not there before. Beneath him, she grew impatient.

"Will you _move_?" She breathed, indignant, trying to writhe her hips. He buried his head in her neck to hide his smile. His response was to _move_ , setting a slow pace that had them both clutching each other, fingers gliding over sweat-slicked skin.

For long moments, they thrust together and Sarkan felt the familiar affection and connection fill the space around them. The heat grew and he felt a tightening low in his stomach, a heat curling deep inside. He gripped her thigh and lifted it up his body, higher around him. Her head flew back against the mossy pillow with the new angle and she let out a yell.

"More… Please….I….Please…."

Sarkan acquiesced and began to move in earnest, driving into her at a speed that wound them both up. Beneath him, Agnieszka gasped and shuddered, tightening impossibly around him and Sarkan growled back, pushing harder, faster until suddenly there was nothing. He closed his eyes as stars exploded behind his eyelids, letting out a guttural groan and returning to her neck to ride out the end.

They lay together panting until Sarkan became aware of her fingers sweepingly lightly up his spine. He shivered now as the air hit his rapidly cooling skin.

"Hmm," she hummed beneath him and reached down. He rolled to his side to see what she was doing, just in time to see her pull a grass coverlet down on top of them. He blinked at her.

"You're kidding me," he said. She smiled serenely, rolling to her side to lay her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"It's comfortable."

And she was right, damn her. It was soft, pliant grass and it flooded the air around them with the warm smell of spring. He screwed up his face in disgust anyway.

"You live in a _tree,_ " he berated, stretching to accommodate her and letting his hand drift up and down her waist. "You eat that horrible fruit, you sleep under a blanket of grass… You might as well be a farm animal they way you're carrying on."

"Mmm, more like a forest creature, I'd imagine, seeing as we are, in fact, in a forest," she yawned, settling into his caress. "Are you staying with me tonight?" She asked.

He kept his breath even and smooth, but gazed down at her. He remembered a time when he had thought that she was plain. She would never be the greatest of beauties, but now he saw her power and strength and bubbling, organic perseverance written all over her. In the curve of her nose, the line of her jaw, the lift of her lips…

"Sarkan," she murmured, and he knew she would be asleep soon.

"It's not as if I can go to the tower. You didn't bother to clean it up before disappearing to gallivant in the woods like a heathen," his voice had none of the censure that he wanted it to have. He sounded soft. He didn't care. She grinned lazily at him, blinking her eyes open briefly before closing them again.

"Will you stay with me tonight, then? I can help you clean tomorrow," she began to trail off, slipping into sleep.

"Absolutely not! I won't have some forest creature tramping moss and grass and God-knows-what all over my floors…" He stopped talking when she let out a soft snore.

Reaching out, he gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and stared at her for several long moments, watching her chest rise and fall peacefully. Laying his head down on the pillow, he let out a long sigh and tightened his arm around her. He muttered a word to extinguish the light in the tree and dropped surprisingly quickly into sleep.


End file.
